


At-arms

by incandescence



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Public Hand Jobs, Sexual Content, Smoking, Telepathy, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 14:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incandescence/pseuds/incandescence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither Hikaru or Chinen are immune to its fangs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At-arms

**Author's Note:**

> This is unlike anything I've ever written before. Idk what happened. Inspired by [dusk037](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dusk037) linking these pictures to me last September.

Hikaru can’t wait for rehearsal to be over, just so he can stumble to his bag and take one of the many headache tablets he always carries with him. Today’s is manageable, but with so little sleep last night and a new killer choreography, Hikaru just really doesn’t want to have to deal with it. He still dances to the best of his ability, which never feels like enough, but he doesn’t have the energy to even keep an eye on the other members. Not today.

Finally, the dance instructor tells them to stop. Hikaru can’t get to his bag fast enough.

Only to find he has no tablets. He must have forgotten to pack the refilled container in the morning. Frustrated, he gulps down almost his entire bottle of water in one go and sinks down onto a bench. It’s just getting to the point where he can’t stand it anymore; his hands come up to cradle his head. In the midst of all the pain, Hikaru swears there’s some kind of knocking going on inside. 

_This is it, I’ve finally gone insane_. He shakes his head in the hopes it’ll help, but the knocking only seems to bounce off the walls in his mind and disorients him even more.

“Hikaru?” A soft voice pierces through the edge of his consciousness, and the knocks cease as abruptly as they began. With all the energy he can muster, Hikaru looks up.

“Are you okay?” Yabu asks, peering down at him, towel around his neck. 

Hikaru knows that Yabu is worried about him, but for some reason that only makes him angrier. “I’m fine,” he mutters, brushing aside Yabu’s offer of a drink bottle and standing up, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. “See you on Friday.”

He strides off, ignoring the others as they call out to him or wave, and makes it all the way to the door before another wave of pain washes over him the second his hand touches the doorknob.

Hikaru curses and wrenches the door open. Immediately, he heads down a well-worn corridor, fumbling with his bag along the way, fingers curling around a familiar, battered box.

His last cigarette and a lighter is already in his hand once he throws open the door on the roof, and Hikaru sinks down onto the floor and takes a drag gratefully. For how long he sits there he doesn’t know, taking puffs of his cigarette and staring sullenly at the clouds.

“Shoo,” he says to the seagulls. They’re mocking him. Today, everything is.

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

Inhale. 

The door bursts open again. Chinen’s standing there, looking more serious than Hikaru has ever seen him, except maybe for that time Yamada was sent to hospital in the middle of their tour. 

Exhale.

Chinen walks towards him with his hand outstretched. “Hikka,” he says, eyes flashing dangerously.

Hikaru doesn’t want to give it to him. He inhales again out of spite. Chinen just stares him down. Exhale. Hikaru finds himself placing the cigarette between Chinen’s fingers. Chinen drops it on the floor with disgust and steps on it with his heel.

“Such a waste,” Hikaru can’t help but comment. Usually he never takes this tone with Chinen. He’s still looking up, so he sees the exact moment the other boy snaps.

“Do you _want_ to kill yourself?” Chinen barks. Hikaru raises an eyebrow. He’s never heard this much bite in their youngest’s voice before. Part of him feels remorseful, but only a small part. Mostly he feels nothing. 

He says nothing. This only seems to aggravate Chinen more.

“I can’t stand here and watch you try to kill yourself,” Chinen yells at him, stamping his foot impatiently. “I can’t do it anymore. I’ve been doing it for too long. Inoo says I should mind my own business, but I can’t.” 

“Inoo’s right,” he retorts, angry again. “Mind your own business. The others smoke too, why aren’t you pestering them?” Hikaru knows, though. The others are casual smokers. He smokes like a chimney and is in great danger of dying young. But all this doesn’t matter right now, with Hikaru’s head threatening to split in half and nothing to alleviate it.

Hikaru wants to say more, to unleash all his pent up frustrations now that he’s started, when he sees tears welling up in Chinen’s eyes.

Chinen drops to his knees beside him, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Stop fighting me,” he beseeches. “Let me in.”

Now Hikaru is just confused. “What--?” 

He hears knocks inside his head again, and freezes. 

_Is he dying?_ Hikaru wants to tell Chinen to run, so he doesn’t have to see his fears come true.

Instead of looking scared, Chinen just grabs his hand. 

“Let me in, Hikka.”

The knocks disappear, and Hikaru suddenly feels cold. He shivers. He realises that like him, Chinen’s still only wearing a t-shirt.

“Do you want to go back inside?” Hikaru asks. He didn’t bring a jacket with him today, and he doesn’t want Chinen to catch a cold. Nobody knows what to do when Chinen gets sick.

“ _Ssh_ ,” Chinen says. It seems like the sound is coming from inside his head. Hikaru blinks. And shakes his head a few times. The headache has subsided somewhat, but the pain has been replaced by an unfamiliar sensation. It’s almost as though there’s a warm fire crackling inside, protecting him from the cold, and Hikaru almost laughs out loud at the absurdity of his fleeting thought.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?” he asks.

“ _I told you to be quiet, Hikka_ ”. Chinen’s voice is definitely coming from _inside his mind_ and oh God, Hikaru really has gone insane. He panics, meeting Chinen’s eyes as he looks around wildly. He tries to calm down, not wanting alarm Chinen.

“ _You’re not going insane,_ ”. As if to prove it, Chinen squeezes his hand gently.

Hikaru’s jaw drops. “ _Chinen?!_ ”

Chinen nods, smiling a little despite his tearstained face. _Hello!_

“ _Since when--?_ ” Hikaru doesn’t even know where to begin. He just continues to gape.

“ _I’ve always had this ability. You can’t imagine what it’s like being in a group with you all._ ”

Even inside his mind, if that’s what indeed is happening, Chinen is gentle. Somehow, Chinen’s presence is comforting and soothing, healing him as Chinen continues to pulse into other corners of his mind. Still, Hikaru doesn’t want him inside. He doesn’t want Chinen to see. 

He turns away, but Chinen pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

***

Hikaru doesn’t talk to Chinen for days. Not on the roof when he pushes Chinen a little more roughly than he should have, and the weird contact between them vanishes immediately. Not when he stumbles back downstairs and rushes back home, trying to block everything out, craving a cigarette, or possibly a drink. Not even at work. It’s easier the first two days, because it’s more dance rehearsal for the nine of them. The third day, Hikaru checks the board in the _duet_ studios, and his heart sinks when he sees Chinen’s name printed next to him for that day’s shoot.

The initial shock fades after two drinks, a cigarette, another drink, and a couple of hours to sleep it all off. Chinen has always been scarily intuitive and curious about the other members. What remains in the morning, apart from the usual apathy and self-loathing, is fear. Fear that Chinen had seen the part of him that Hikaru tries in vain to keep under a lock and key of alcohol and nicotine.

Chinen doesn’t talk to him, either. At first Hikaru fears it’s because he was so afraid of what he saw; the darkness that resides inside. But during rehearsal, or during breaks, Hikaru sees Chinen follow his movements with his eyes. Chinen’s feelings are always written all over his face.

On the fourth day Hikaru reaches the benches first again, about to sit down when he sees Chinen sitting cross-legged in the centre the floor. He changes his mind and grabs another towel.

“Here,” he mutters moments later. Chinen accepts the towel gratefully and Hikaru sinks to the floor beside him, downing the contents of his water bottle. When he’s done, he drops his head onto Chinen’s shoulder.

It’s his way of saying sorry.

In return, Chinen leans into him. 

***

Hikaru never had illusions as to how difficult it would be to have another person in his mind. The fact that it’s Chinen makes it a little easier, he thinks, but then again there’s no prior experience to compare it to. Even as a constant companion in his mind when they’re within a 3km radius of each other Chinen isn’t intrusive, only sharing his thoughts when he can sense Hikaru wouldn’t mind. 

Initially Chinen hadn’t dared make contact again, but Hikaru’s headaches are a frequent occurrence. Whenever it flared up at work, Chinen had stood on his tip toes, reaching up to rub Hikaru’s temples and hesitantly asking permission to help. Hikaru didn’t want to let him. But then his head felt like there were weights in it and he passed out right in front of Chinen’s eyes. When he woke up, Chinen had already let himself in. 

Again, it helped. And the cycle continued. In the end Hikaru stopped saying no, and Chinen stopped asking. Eventually, the channel opened automatically whenever they were in close proximity.

“ _I’ve been trying for a while. I tried gently at first. I didn’t want to force it._ ”

“Thanks,” Hikaru mutters out loud, remembering the panic that knocking had induced. He rubs his temple. To Chinen’s credit, Hikaru hadn’t actually noticed the knocking until the final few incidents.

Chinen grins then; his trademark, self-satisfying grin and Hikaru has to try hard not to snort at the contrast. 

The thought occurs to Hikaru that he can’t see anything in Chinen’s mind. It strikes him as a bit odd, but then again Hikaru knows nothing about this ability of Chinen’s. For all he knows it could be normal.

They reach the bustling station and slowly weave their way down one flight of stairs.

“ _Don’t fall asleep and miss your stop, okay?_ ” Hikaru teases, waving goodbye as Chinen heads towards his platform.

Chinen’s answering smile is wry. “ _I’ll do my best._ ”

***

“ _He’s worried about you, you know._ ” Chinen strokes his hair, and it feels so good Hikaru never wants him to stop.

Hikaru’s head in Chinen’s lap for a change is a departure from the norm, but today Hikaru doesn’t care. Today’s headache was one of the bad ones, and Chinen had dragged him to the couch almost as soon as one foot crossed the threshold of the dressing room. Hikaru had been too exhausted to complain. 

“ _I know_ ”. He mentally sighs. “ _It would never work between us._ ”

Chinen hums sympathetically.

Yabu loves him. Everyone knows this. Hikaru loves him too. Everyone also knows this.

Sometimes they think it can work. That they can make it work. Their current record is three days and four nights. Every time they try, there’s always something to remind them why they Just. Won’t. Work.

It’s been about ten months since their last attempt. Hikaru doesn’t think there will be any more, but he’s been avoiding Yabu just in case. There’ll always be something between them, whether or not they like it. It’s just the way things are. Hikaru accepted this a long time ago, but sometimes he still dreams, of Yabu in between his legs, of Yabu’s fingers, long and nimble, of Yabu’s mouth doing exactly what he wants it to do, and ugh. These memories aren’t helping. Irritated, Hikaru makes a face. Moments later, something collides with his head. 

“Ow!”

“Are you okay, Hikaru?” Daiki calls from the other side of the room.

“Sorry, my fingers got tangled in his hair!” Chinen replies. “ _Stop that,_ ” he scolds internally.

Hikaru is sheepish. “ _Sorry._ ”

Chinen goes back to playing with his hair. “ _It’s okay._ ” He wrinkles his nose. “ _Just try to control it._ ”

Easier said than done. “ _Got any tips?_ ” Even in his mind, his tone is dry.

Chinen sighs ruefully. “ _If only I knew. I’d tell all of you guys and then force you to try._ ”

Hikaru laughs at him. “ _Isn’t there some way to block off a part of our minds?_ ”

“ _Yes. But since my mind is joined with yours now, it’s harder._ ”

Joined with his mind. Hikaru likes the sound of that. He smiles up at Chinen. “ _Sorry._ ” Chinen raises an eyebrow. “ _I’ll try._ ”

***

It’s both easier and harder with Chinen in his mind. Easier because Chinen is gentle and soothing, and most days Hikaru finds he can survive with the numbness that Chinen provides. He asks about it, once.

“Will it stay like this forever?” Hikaru asks as he grills meat for both of them, in part trying to forget about his horrible encounter with the waiter where he stuttered even worse than Keito and had to try three times before he could order properly. The only bad thing about going out with Chinen is that he’s even shyer than Hikaru is.

Chinen thinks about this for a moment, looking for a way to explain. “No,” he says at last. “I’ll fade out eventually. The plan is to help, remember, not make you dependent.”

Hikaru snorts. “Good luck with that.”

It’s harder because when the demons come back it hurts double, penetrating two layers this time instead of one, and Chinen’s not immune to its fangs. Hikaru can’t bear to see Chinen suffering, least of all on his behalf. Chinen acts brave, but he can’t hide it all.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Chinen’s lying across his lap in a daze. “You should get out. I hate seeing you like this. I’ll find a way to deal with it on my own.”

Chinen shakes his head stubbornly. “Shut up,” he says with uncharacteristic harshness. “This is nothing,” he insists, but five minutes later he’s passed out in Hikaru’s lap. Hikaru watches over him as he sleeps, anger, hatred and guilt welling up inside. Eventually, he loses consciousness too, sometime between the last of his tears falling, then drying.

They’re woken up by Yamada, already dressed and in full makeup. If he notices both their expressions, he doesn’t mention it.

“Ten minutes until calltime,” he says, pushing a bottle of hairspray into one of Hikaru’s hands.

Hikaru looks down to see Chinen blinking up at him slowly. “I chose this,” he whispers, and Hikaru's immediately transported back to that afternoon on the roof. “But I can only do so much, Hikka.”

* * *

He’s been plagued for almost seven years. Six years, nine months and three weeks, if he was being pedantic about it, but Hikaru rounds it up to seven because everything blends together and feels like a decade, anyway. He used to count back and wait; wait for the day in which he woke up the very person he no longer recognises. 

He became disillusioned pretty quickly. Hikaru has never been known for patience.

Now, he feels as if he’s just existing. Retracing his steps each day from the moment his eyes welcome their first glimpse of morning light, until the moment they finally, _finally_ close.

***

Yabu shows up on his doorstep one night. Hikaru opens the door in his pyjamas and sighs when he sees who it is.

“Yabu.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” It’s not a question.

Hikaru sighs again then stands aside. Yabu hesitates, fists balled into the pockets of his hoodie.

Hikaru will never find out who makes the first move. All he knows is that in the next moment he’s kissing Yabu, slamming him against the door as soon as it swings shut. Alcohol and the taste of cigarettes lingers on Yabu’s tongue — or maybe it’s his. Hikaru can’t tell. Yabu started smoking because of him. He just continues to kiss Yabu, lips meeting over and over again as they pull and push in the same well-worn routine. It’s been too long, but at the same time, it hasn’t been long enough. 

Yabu’s hoodie ends up on the ground, Hikaru’s balled-up t-shirt ending up beside it. Curse Yabu for wearing a damn shirt with buttons — two shaking hands aren’t enough and it’s even worse when Yabu tries to help. In the end they rip it, and when they let go it flutters right by their feet. 

Hikaru had almost forgotten what Yabu’s fingers felt like on his skin, but tonight Yabu quickly reminds him, wasting no time in roaming his chest, his abdomen, his back, making Hikaru’s attempt to get Yabu out of his pants even more difficult.

Eventually he succeeds — with no thanks to Yabu — and Yabu groans into his neck when Hikaru runs a palm over the front of his boxers, slow and deliberate. Then, somehow, it’s him crying out as Yabu sucks hard on his neck, in the place it seems neither of them forgot about. A glint in Yabu’s eyes; he doesn’t stop there. With strength Hikaru didn’t even know Yabu possessed, he’s pushed to the back of the sofa and can only watch helplessly, fingers digging into shoulders as Yabu kisses a straight trail lower, lower, _lower_.

He doesn’t get low enough. Yabu is spending too long teasing. Hikaru is getting impatient and brings a hand up to tangle in his hair, almost ready to push down, when Chinen’s face surfaces in his mind.

“ _I can only do so much._ ”

Yabu is finally pulling down his pants. Hikaru wants it; he wants it bad.

Yabu is sucking on his thigh; moves back up to his abdomen, hot breath of air skimming across it; Hikaru cries out and-- 

“Stop.” 

Yabu doesn’t listen. Fingers slip into the edges of the waistband. Another puff of air.

With all the willpower he can muster, Hikaru sits up as best as he can and pushes; Yabu takes an involuntary step back and stumbles. “I can’t do this.” Yabu opens his mouth. “Not now. Not anymore. This isn’t right.”

Yabu’s entire face changes. Hikaru can’t believe this is happening any more than Yabu can. “You’re really doing this?” He’s glaring. Usually Hikaru’s the one doing all the glaring while Yabu's eyes disappear because his smile is so bright.

“I’m sorry” he says numbly. He can’t think of anything else he can say to make this better. 

Yabu curses low under his breath, and Hikaru looks away as he angrily picks up his clothes off the floor and yanks up his jeans and the zipper of his hoodie.

He slides down the back of the couch when the door slams shut. Hikaru, shoves a hand into his boxers, curling his own fingers around his length, fast strokes and whimpered noises until he spills over his hand.

That night, Hikaru falls asleep on the floor.

***

Hikaru stays away from Chinen for the following week, not wanting him to find out. He just wants to forget. Like before, Chinen lets him, keeping his distance until Hikaru bops him on the head one afternoon and asks to see the new game everyone’s been playing.

“ _Hi, I missed you,_ ” Chinen has no qualms about telling him after a sweet, spoken “Sure, Hikka~!” 

At work he and Yabu have resorted to only talking if necessary, and with six other members old enough and brave enough to voice their opinions, it’s thankfully not often. It makes the first MC of their concert run a bit difficult because neither of them can still look at each other in the eye, but to everyone’s surprise it’s Chinen that starts things off for once, and the others follow on like clockwork. For the first time ever they have individual rooms for the duration of their tour, and Hikaru breathes a sigh of relief when he scans the room assignment sheet three times in succession, coming to the same conclusion each time.

For the longest time Hikaru thought that he would always be the one who understood Yabu the most, and that Yabu would always be the one who understood him the most. However, things are changing and Hikaru isn’t sure if that is still the case. They get into a horrible fight one evening rehearsal, over something so trivial, scaring all the other members. They haven’t hashed it out like this in a while; not since Inoo and Daiki had to quickly herd Chinen and Ryutaro into the other room, Keito standing rooted to the spot while Yuto cried into Yamada’s shoulder, and Takaki trying his best to get them to stop. This time Yuto pushes him away and Yamada pushes Yabu, right into opposite corners until they’ve caught their breath back well enough to stand up.

Unlike before, rehearsal actually resumes. Hikaru just concentrates on the rhythm of the music, the sharpness of his movements, as well as the formation and sync checks that used to be second nature, and by the end of the night he feels like he can get used to this again.

***

Hikaru plucks a few chords on his bass listening to each one carefully before he selects. It’s the first time he’s felt like composing in months, and he wants to get his bass solo just right by the end of the night. There’s a meeting next week. Maybe he’ll be able to present an almost-finished piece.

After a few lines of painstakingly scratching out notes one-by-one, inspiration hits and he runs with it, closing his eyes and getting into the mood of the music, playing freely without caring about remembering. He’s recording this, anyway — if it’s any good he’ll go back later and transcribe. For now, what’s more important is the mood, and so he keeps his eyes closed and continues to play.

When he opens his eyes, Chinen is staring at him. There’s awe written all over his face, as well as something else Hikaru can’t quite place, and he feels a slight tremor of pride that he hasn’t felt in ages.

“ _Hikaru, you’re amazing._ ” Chinen’s still staring at him.

Embarrassed, Hikaru shakes his head. “ _No. Thank you, though._ ”

“ _You are,_ ” Chinen insists, louder voice suddenly bouncing off the walls of his mind. “ _Because I say you are,_ ” he adds, lowering his voice after Hikaru's wince, but he’s folding his arms and looking defiant.

“It’s getting late.” Chinen sighs when Hikaru loses their staring competition. “I should go.” But he doesn’t move from the corner of the room he’s been curled up in since he first arrived unannounced at Hikaru’s apartment.

“You don’t have to,” Hikaru says. Chinen looks so tired, and Hikaru knows he has a frightening tendency to miss his train stops late at night, though he never lets anyone know how often it really happens, and Hikaru doesn't know how long these mistakes extend Chinen's journey by. At the very least he’ll be able to make sure Chinen will get the sleep he needs under his own watch. “Stay over tonight.”

When a wide smile spreads across Chinen’s face, Hikaru’s all the more convinced he made the right decision.

He pulls out the futon for Chinen and brings it to his room. Chinen curls up onto it like a cat and falls asleep the instant his face hits the pillow, but in the morning Hikaru wakes up to find that sometime during the night, Chinen moved. Hikaru pauses only to pull the covers up over them both a little more before drifting off again with the younger boy in his arms.

***

Hikaru cuts down on smoking. His packet-a-day habit eventually becomes a packet-a-week, and then every two weeks, then a month, and now Hikaru only reaches them once in a blue moon. 

It’s difficult. He’d only started the bad habit because of the lingering headaches that stopped him from living, but somewhere along the way he’d got addicted. It’s difficult. Some days — particularly bad days — Hikaru wishes he could be that person again, just so he could reach for a cigarette or two and make the pain vanish almost instantly. There’s nothing in the world that can ease the suffering of withdrawal as much as a cigarette can a headache.

With the help of Chinen, somehow Hikaru perseveres. With two consciousnesses occupying his mind, somehow he remains strong. Nicotine patches help, too. But Chinen helps the most.

On Wednesday afternoon, after picking up another supply of nicotine patches and eye drops, a sale display in the front window of a bookstore catches his eye. Hikaru walks in and, after browsing for an hour, chooses a few books that look interesting.

***

It’s only he and Yabu left at work, Inoo having left ten minutes ago with a “bye~” in a cute voice, puffing out his cheeks and giving a little wave. They both watch him go and when Hikaru inadvertently catches Yabu’s eyes when he turns back, they’re both wearing an identical amused expression.

But then Hikaru blinks and the moment is gone. They go about their solo photoshoot and interview with grim determination. The photoshoot theme involves spring clothes, and Hikaru does his utmost best to smile brightly and not shiver too much in his thin purple check shirt and beige cargo pants.

His interview is next. Hikaru spends half an hour discussing his newfound interest in cooking, the new CD Daiki had lent him that he thought was okay for once, and reading some new manga he'd picked up after browsing the store for an hour with Yamada. When he leaves the interview room, he comes face to face with Yabu emerging from his photo shoot. They both hesitate, but then fall into step as they walk to the dressing room in silence to collect their belongings. 

Hikaru makes it to the door before Yabu speaks.

“Dinner?” he blurts out. “Just dinner,” he says hastily when Hikaru opens his mouth to refuse. “Just dinner, I promise.”

They end up at, no surprise, the ramen restaurant across the road. Hikaru sits in silence while Yabu talks to the waitress and orders for them both. The last time they were here, Hikaru only scraped the top of his bowl before passing it to Yabu and then lighting a cigarette. Back then, they sat on the same side of the booth so they could hold hands while they ate. Hikaru’s hand had wandered, though, to rub Yabu’s thigh; trailing higher and higher, working its way into his pants and between his legs. Yabu had been really good at maintaining a nonchalant face and keeping his head down, but Hikaru alone could hear the noises he only made when they were alone. When he was done they resumed; Yabu, eating, and Hikaru, smoking. They didn’t look at each other for the rest of the night.

Now, he itches for another cigarette, and the fingers of his left hand curl around nothing in thin air. When he gets home, he’ll need to reapply a patch or two.

It’s much harder to avoid eye contact sitting opposite each other. Hikaru keeps his head down, thankful that he chose to wear a cap to the studio today. Their food and drinks arrive and still they’re silent. Part of him regrets following Yabu here tonight. Hikaru should have just made up some excuse and gone home, like he has to Yabu so many times before. Guilt, perhaps, stopped him.

Yabu always orders two bowls of ramen, and this time it surprises them both when Hikaru chimes in for another one, too, after Yabu signalled the waitress. He just makes a noncommittal grunt and lowers his eyes back to his first.

Yabu catches his arm on the pavement outside the restaurant. He turns reluctantly, because Yabu’s grip is firm.

“It was the right thing,” Yabu says, halting, hesitant. He’s not quite looking at Hikaru, but then again, Hikaru isn’t quite looking at him, either. “Thank you.”

“What changed your mind?” his voice is gruff from the cold, and Hikaru realises it might be too forward. They’re not even friends, after all. “You don’t have to answer that.”

Yabu shrugs and answers it anyway. “Time. Being away from you.” He coughs and wraps his scarf tighter around his neck as he looks away. “Yuya.”

In hindsight, Hikaru should have been so surprised. There was that period of time where Takaki stopped speaking to him. Hikaru didn’t know why, but hadn’t particularly cared. He and Yabu had just started being lovers, then.

“I’m happy for you.”

Yabu smiles; the most genuine smile Hikaru has seen from him in years. As he walks away, Hikaru realises that maybe it’s finally time for them both to let go of the guilt they’ve harboured for all these years.

***

Feelings were never meant to be involved. In the hotel room, Yabu couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning so much it drove Hikaru mad, so he climbed into the other bed and hugged Yabu until they both succumbed. They kissed each others nightmares away, the ones that wouldn't leave even years after debut. As time went on, they discovered kisses weren't enough to save them. And then too soon, not even sleeping together was.

They weren't enough for the others, and deep down they knew they weren't enough for each other.

They’d still continued though, because even a temporary distraction from despair and helplessness was eagerly accepted.

***

Chinen’s presence slips from his mind so gradually that Hikaru doesn’t notice until one June evening when they’re reading books in Chinen’s bedroom and Chinen doesn’t respond to a question Hikaru asks mentally until he repeats it three times and shouts his name twice.

“ _Sorry, I didn’t hear you._ ”

Hikaru thinks that’s weird, because Chinen has always heard him before, and right now they’re in the room. He doesn’t question it, though. “ _It’s fine. I just wanted to know if you were hungry._ ”

A resounding “ _yes_ ” in his mind, and Hikaru closes his book with a snap and moves to roll off the edge of the bed. Chinen whines a little, a hand shooting out to cling onto his waist.

“You can stay there, I’m just going to make us some dinner,” Hikaru turns to him, laughing. “I’ll make some for your family, too.”

Chinen pouts slightly, and suddenly he’s fourteen again and Hikaru wants to ruffle his hair cuddle him until Chinen complains he can’t breathe. “Don’t be too long, okay? I’ll be uncomfortable without my body pillow.”

Hikaru settles for smiling and gently detaching Chinen’s arm. “I won’t be long,” he promises.

He keeps it. He loads some of the food onto a try for the two of them, and keeps the rest in a container on the counter for Chinen’s family. He walks back to Chinen’s room to find the boy fast asleep, one hand still clutching an open book.

Setting the tray down on Chinen’s bedside table, Hikaru sits beside him and takes the book away, then pulls the covers properly over the boy’s small frame, involuntarily brushing a stray lock of hair away from Chinen’s forehead once he’s done so. For some reason Chinen looks sad, and the longer Hikaru watches him, the more unhappy he feels. 

He’s noticed this, recently. Chinen hides it well, but they’ve been spending the greater part of the year with their minds joined whenever they meet, and he’d caught more and more glimpses of it. Hikaru had invited Chinen over more to keep a closer eye on him, but still Chinen didn’t say anything. Maybe this is when he started pulling away.

Hikaru packs his bag, then takes the food back to the kitchen and covers it up, setting it on the counter next to the bigger container. He leaves with a heavy heart, and a sadness Hikaru is sure he once knew how to get rid of.

***

It’s not long before Hikaru can no longer communicate with Chinen telepathically. He doesn’t know exactly when, because ever since that night Hikaru had made a conscious effort to only speak out loud, and Chinen had done the same. What Hikaru hadn’t expected was for them to cease seeing each other outside of work completely — all of a sudden Chinen is too busy, too tired, too bored, for anything Hikaru has to offer. He still acts the same towards him at work though, so Hikaru thinks that maybe now that he’s much better than he has been in ages, Chinen feels his work is done.

In a way this revelation saddens him, but Hikaru knows he’ll always be grateful to Chinen. He’s always been fond of the boy, but Hikaru had liked growing closer this past year; liked being a person Chinen would come to even though Chinen was the one helping him, because Chinen never opens up to anybody.

For the first time in two years he schedules a jam session at the one of the practice studios downtown that the four of them used to frequent. He’s so nervous he arrives an hour early and has to wait outside for the previous group to finish — though the staff approved his new song, none of the members have heard it yet. 

Predictably Inoo’s the first one to arrive after him, just as Hikaru finishes tuning his bass. Hikaru raises a hand and smiles, but Inoo ignores the gesture as he steps closer.

There is no trace of good-naturedness on Inoo's face; all Hikaru sees in his eyes today is fury, and he's not sure it's something he's ever seen Inoo be associated with before. “You need to talk to him. Don’t let him run away.”

Hikaru doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

That’s when Inoo loses it, and now it's not only his eyes that Hikaru is afraid of. “You know what Chinen’s like for God’s sake! You know perfectly well.” He growls in frustration when Hikaru makes no move, and it turns into a drawn-out sigh. “The boy is in love with you. Has been for years. Why can’t you see that? Why do you think it’s impossible for him to leave you alone?”

His mouth opens, but still no sound comes out. Even if that were true before, their minds have long ceased to be joined.

Inoo looks as though nothing in the world can save Hikaru from his cluelessness; his face usually makes them all laugh and call him grandpa. “Hikaru. You know what Chinen’s like.”

Hikaru forgets his bass and his music, leaving them behind with Inoo in the studio.

***

Chinen is asleep. Hikaru stands awkwardly in the doorway of Chinen’s bedroom while he dithers over what to do.

“I’m sure Yuri had enough sleep,” Chinen’s mother had assured him in the living room, but Chinen still has dark eye circles every time Hikaru sees him.

He settles for sitting against the foot of the bed instead and hopes he doesn’t scare Chinen when the boy wakes up.

Chinen always wakes up peacefully. Hikaru has envied him since their debut concert. As such, Chinen actually notices his presence before Hikaru realises he’s awake, blinking slowly at the back of Hikaru’s head while his body struggles through the process of waking.

“ _Hikka?_ ”

Silence.

Hikaru smiles, leaning his head back to rest against the hardwood surface, watching the way the suns rays penetrate through the fabric of the dark curtains. 

“ _Hi._ ”


End file.
